Freedom or Immortality
by Andraste Carter
Summary: A Dark!fic. Harry is now a supporter of Voldemort. Sort of. And a power struggle begins. How does Draco get mixed up in it? How does he become pregnant? How does Harry achieve his freedom and thus immortality? Read and find out! Warnings inside. MPreg
1. Chapter 1

WARNINGS: STRONG Sexual Content, Dub con, Violence, Spoilers, MPreg, SLASH.

JK Rowling owns everything, if she wants the credit for this story she can take it, i'd be honoured. Otherwise im not making any money from this. They belong to her, i just like to make them do naughty things. 

A/N- Hi I'm not sure whether there's a place out there for this story but i hope there is, there will be sexual situations between our boys and others if this makes you angry or, well, if you don't want to read it, don't. I wont mind. Promise. It also contains strong sexual situations, Mpreg and a very Dark!Harry. If that's your bag, take it!

The room was dark and gloomy. Gothic candelabras provided a particularly morbid atmosphere. This was not a place one would expect The-Boy-Who-Lived to call his bedroom. At least, it wasn't a place one would have expected The-Boy-Who-Lived to call his bedroom before The Massacre. 

In the centre of this deathly quiet room stood a grand four-poster, decked in silk sheets and a suede comforter. However this bed was about anything but comfort. The mattress was hard, the sheets never releasing their grip on the abandoned cold that hung throughout the manor, and the comforter was heavy and restricting. No, this bed was definitely not about comfort; this bed was about intimidation and control. An effect only enhanced by the gnarled iron legs and support bars of the bed. There was only one bedside table, despite the fact that the bed was hardly ever occupied by less than two people. The black hangings were currently bound by heavy leather straps, so as not to hinder his view. 

Behind the bed was a platform, raised approximately four feet from the cold stone floor. Upon this platform stood a chaise lounge; the height allowed its occupant a perfect view of the bed. 

This occupant at present was none other than Harry Potter himself. He lay with his head resting on his hand, his body draped elegantly across the lounge, a heavy black bath-robe framing an olive-tinted, toned, hairless chest and perfectly defined abdominal muscles. His hair was still the untamable mane it had always been only now, it suited his untamable nature. His face had thinned, now sporting high cheekbones and a strong chin; everything about this Harry Potter screamed 'look, but don't touch'. 

The eerie silence was suddenly broken. 

"Sir?" 

There was no reply. 

"Sir? Could I… Would it be possible… May I leave?" The words were barely audible; it had taken a lot of nerve to speak them. 

"Have we not had this discussion before? I distinctly remember telling you to not… move… a… muscle." 

"Yes sir, but..." 

"But what?" 

"I've been lying here for over an hour, and, well, it's cold, sir." 

Indeed it was cold; Harry cold see the bumps lining the boy's long refined limbs. 

"Pardon?" The tone was harsh. 

"N…Nothing."

"I didn't think so." Unforgiving. 

The room dropped into silence again and Harry continued to lie there. Simply watching the boy, who couldn't have been a day over seventeen. He was all alabaster skin and petite form. In bed, he was responsive, passionate and flexible, the perfect bitch, the perfect whore. Or would've been if he could learn to hold his tongue and comply completely, but Harry was almost there, had almost broken him in. 

Harry enjoyed watching his lovers after sex, though not all of them lingered. The ones who were his had no choice and he was enjoying watching as the boys lips turned purple then blue; fascinating as they were normally such a deep red. 

There was a loud knock on the heavy wooden door, tearing Harry from his reverie. Aden, the boy, reached for something to cover himself with, but stopped as Harry whispered a soft, "No, don't," and waved his hand toward the door. It opened slowly, revealing none other than Lucius Malfoy wearing an annoyed look; he was above this, he was no messenger! Voldemort obviously thought differently. 

"Potter. My Lord wishes to speak with you. Urgently." He refused to look at the brunet sprawled across the bed; he would not succumb to Potter's cheap tricks. 

"About what?" 

"I do not have that information." Lucius was growing more frustrated by the minute. 

"Tell him I will come." 

"May I ask when?" He was struggling to speak politely. 

"When I am ready."

"Of course. As you wish." Lucius' voice was low; he almost spat out the words. He turned to leave. 

"Close the door behind you." 

He froze. The door was large and made of extremely heavy wood, yet if he were to use his wand it would be a complete loss of face. He knew that it was nothing for Potter to use wandless magic to close the door. Another cheap trick. He reached out slowly for the door handle, keeping his back to the two men in the room, and heaved, trying to not show the effort it was taking to move. Finally the door closed and he allowed himself a deep gasp. 

Inside Harry descended from the platform and made his way to the bed. He reached out for Aden, who quickly moved into Harry's arms thankful for the fact the he was a constant radiator of heat. 

"What do you say we make them wait?" 

"Whatever you wish, sir." He secretly enjoyed being consulted. 

"You're learning." Then Harry's lips quickly descended to Aden's in a forceful declaration of dominance, not that there was ever any question. 

Aden was quickly pushed onto his back, where he lay basking in Harry's heat and enjoying the attention being lavished upon him as Harry bit his tongue. He moaned. Harry was an amazing lover; he took what he wanted, whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it, sometimes causing pain, sometimes absolute bliss, but Aden never came away unsatisfied. He moaned again as Harry twisted his left nipple. When Harry was in this mood, Aden knew he wanted him to be loud, and he didn't disappoint. Harry began sucking on his collar bone, moving his hands from where they were placed on both sides of Aden's head to between his arms and torso. Aden took this opportunity to raise his hands to Harry's hair, running long, slim fingers through the deceptively soft locks and receiving an appreciative nip in response. 

Harry lowered his hips, checking for evidence of Aden's arousal; once he found it, he pulled away, rolling onto his back. Knowing what was wanted from previous experience, the whore moved across and crawled down his master's body, positioning himself between Harry's legs. He looked up into sparking emerald eyes as he lowered his head into the crotch before him, starting at the bottom of the thick shaft he stroked up the impressive length with his tongue. He was good at this; Harry had trained him well and he knew what Harry needed, when he needed it. Aden congratulated himself as he slid Harry into his mouth. He reached a hand down to caress the sac softly, gently pulling it away from Harry's body, stretching the skin before releasing it and watching as it jiggled. But Harry was of a different opinion; this was taking too much of a lead. This boy was not in charge; Harry was. He softly spread his hand over Aden's head, allowing his fingers to find strong purchase before his grip suddenly tightened as he pulled it down and thrust up. 

Aden struggled to swallow around the invasion. Deep-throating wasn't an issue, but he was taken by surprise, misinterpreting Harry's attentions as approving, as intended. Harry thrust twice more before releasing his grip, allowing Aden to come up for air. 

"You are my whore, I am not here for your pleasure you are here for mine. I enjoy causing you pleasure, so I make sure you never leave disappointed, however I also enjoy causing you pain. Do I have to change tactics Aden?" Harry growled. The pureblooded boys were all the same. Never fully accepting that they were owned, that they should be thankful and not expectant. They were lucky he gave them anything. 

"No, master. I'm sorry," He barely managed to rasp out. 

"Good. Now prepare yourself." Harry jerked his hand toward the nightstand. The drawer flew open as a glass jar was flung into Aden's hands. He shakily unscrewed the lid, still recovering from the harsh attack and unnerved by Harry's blatant display of power. Most wizards were lucky if they could Accio a feather wandless. He quickly dipped two fingers into the jar, then lay back as he tried to relax himself while he eased both fingers inside; he wouldn't have much time before Harry lost patience. He withdrew and coated all four fingers, as he was about to further stretch himself, Harry grabbed his hand. 

"No. I want you tight, I want you to burn." His voice was low and commanding. 

Aden almost wept; Harry hardly ever took him while so little prepared; he was so large that even after four fingers it burned. Two would be enough if he were average; Harry was not average; he was so far over and above average in every aspect. 

Harry bent to whisper in Aden's ear. "Move," He whispered. 

Aden, for the first time in a while, didn't know what was expected. "Wh…where?" 

"I want you on your hands and knees, in the middle of the bed." Harry's voice was low and sultry, making the whore whimper in desire even whilst scared of what was to come. He moved quickly to the centre of Harry's large bed, away from the heat on the cold suede. 

"Face the door." Aden did so. 

"Now spread." Again Aden complied and waited. 

And waited. 

Finally he felt Harry's heat behind him and the hand he had used to prepare himself was seized and pulled away, forcing Aden onto his elbow as the still slicked hand was brought backwards, through his legs then upward, squashing his sac against his body almost painfully. Harry was right up against his behind and Aden could feel him lowering, and then his arm was pulled up further, this time causing sparks of pain and pleasure to run up his spine as his balls were crushed against his body. His hand was wrapped around Harry's gigantic cock, held still and in place by a large hand as Harry fucked the slick grip, lubricating himself for Aden, who was so hard it almost hurt. He couldn't believe how erotic this felt, feeling the thrusts in a domino effect as his arm moved with the force and his wrist caused friction through his cleft. Finally Harry deemed himself coated and released the less slippery hand back into Aden's control. 

Two hands were placed on his hips as Harry helped himself aim. As usual, the head hurt as it was slowly pushed past the first fold of resistance. He paused, allowing Aden to adjust. Then, without warning, slammed his body forward, forcing his entire length into the tight passage. Aden screamed; he felt like he was being torn in half. He wanted to scream that he'd learnt his lesson, that it would never happen again but even in this condition he knew that it wouldn't help. 

Harry had started to move again and the pain dulled a little. On Harry's next thrust the pleasure of his prostate being hit broke through the pain and he keened. Oh, this, this he could deal with. He began again to moan, losing his grip on reality he handed his entire being over to the pleasure as Harry continued to pound into him. 

He was so out of it that when the door was knocked on again, he didn't hear it, though Harry did. He waved his hand toward the door never pausing in his thrusts, and again it opened slowly, this time revealing none other than Draco Malfoy. Harry knew Draco could see everything from the doorway, that he could see Aden's leaking prick as he was fucked ruthlessly and the expression on his face, his eyes were closed, mouth open as he moaned and keened. Knew Draco could see that he was pushing back against Harry with ruthless abandon, and that Harry wasn't even breaking a sweat. He smirked, angled himself so that he was hitting Aden's sweet spot directly and increased the pressure of his thrusts. 

Draco stood in the doorway, unable to take his eyes off the mind-blowing, erotic scene before him. He could see everything, and he watched as the pretty brunet came, untouched, and fell forward, limp. But Harry kept up the pace, driving in and out again and again, relentless on the poor boy. Draco flicked his eyes up and met Harry's, causing the smirk to grow in intensity. That was how Harry came, staring deep into Draco's icy pools. He shut his eyes and tossed his head back, coming silently. When he opened them it was to see Draco, still standing in the door way, running his eyes over Harry's pecs and abs, tongue running over his lips. 

"Yes?" 

Draco snapped his eyes back to Harry's, and blushed. "The ahh…" He paused to clear his throat, "The Dark Lord is wondering how long he can expect to be waiting." 

Harry pulled out, letting Aden, who was out cold; slump forward. Stepping off the bed, he turned and grabbed the jar of lubricant, allowing Draco a full turn view of his body. He closed the jar and chucked it back into the drawer, then slammed that shut too. He walked across the room to the door, where his day robe hung. He stood in front of it and Draco, making him wait for an answer as he snapped his fingers, a pair of low riding, fitted black pants appearing on his hips. He reached for the robe and threw it on, letting it fall open, displaying his torso. 

Without a word to Draco, he walked out of the door, leaving Aden passed out on the bed and closing the door whilst halfway down the corridor. He heard hurried steps behind him as he walked toward the cigar room where he knew Voldemort would be waiting. 

After walking through many winding corridors, he arrived at an oak door. He opened it without knocking and entered. 

"Riddle?" 

Voldemort cringed. "Potter. I do believe I sent Lucius to fetch you over an hour ago." 

"I do believe you did. Why you felt the need to disturb me however, is what I am here to discuss." His voice was hard and cold, his mind locked. 

"I told him to tell you it was urgent." 

Harry waited until Draco entered before replying, "I am not one of your soldiers, Riddle, don't be foolish enough to think you can control me. It makes no difference whether you send your general, his son or an elf to get me, I am my own man; I do my own will not yours." 

"You have made yourself clear. Now, we need to discuss my next phase. I have a proposal for you." 

"Another proposal? Is our current agreement not to your liking?" 

"Our agreement is fine Potter. As I can not control you, you can not mock me. You may be powerful, but we need each other. When you turned on the Order, you became an enemy of the Light. You will not survive being an enemy of both sides. Respect works both ways." 

Harry lowered his gaze; Voldemort was right. 

"Harry, I see you as my protégé. I have much to teach you, so much power to help you unleash." Harry's eyes lit up. Power. Power was freedom. He was prepared to do anything for freedom. Absolute freedom was immortality, and he wanted both. 

"What do you want me to do?"

A/N Thats the 1st chapter, if you want more, tell me. If you haves suggestions, tell me. If there's anything you especially want, tell me, ill do my best to make sure you get it ;)


	2. Chapter 2

JK Rowling owns everything, if she wants the credit for this story she can take it, i'd be honoured. Otherwise im not making any money from this. They belong to her, i just like to make them do naughty things.

A/N- Hi I'm not sure whether there's a place out there for this story but i hope there is, there will be sexual situations between our boys and others if this makes you angry or, well, if you don't want to read it, don't. I wont mind. Promise. It also contains strong sexual situations, Mpreg and a very Dark!Harry. If that's your bag, take it!

Also, a big thanks to my wonderful beta **cluelesschase**! 

"That boy is dangerous, My Lord."

Lucius sat in his study. A snifter of cognac was in one hand and something similar to a cigar in the other. Across from him, in a winged leather chair much like his own, sat Voldemort.

"Indeed he is. But we need him, and I have a plan." Voldemort's hands were empty, crossed over each other on his lap. He refused the vices that could mar his new, perfect body. After three years of slitted eyes and the lack of a nose, he had developed a method of obtaining a body very similar to the one he would have possessed had he never come across Potter. He now carried a knowledgeable air only enhanced by the beginnings of lines defining his face and the spattering of grey hairs that traced his auburn hair locks; his features were refined.

"Would you care to enlighten me as to what that plan is? Your followers begin to lose patience. They won't fight this war forever, My Lord." Lucius' tone was respectful and inquisitive. He reminded Voldemort of a faithful hound sometimes.

"They must have faith; I refuse to coddle anybody. I will tell you only what you need to know."

They sat in the study for long hours discussing what Voldemort was willing to reveal, in great detail. Finally, in the small hours of the morning they began to wrap up.

"It will be difficult to break off the arrangement with the Parkinsons. They were relying on this match to return some credibility to their weakened name."

"Nevertheless it shall happen. I require Draco; no one else will do. Can you make him agree, Lucius?" The glare accompanying this question was penetrating.

"Of course My Lord; he is your servant. Though perhaps he does not need to be pre-informed?"

"Potter!" Draco was sprinting after Harry down the corridor. "Potter wait! The Dark Lord wishes to speak with us." A week had passed since Draco had witnessed Harry pounding Aden into the mattress.

Harry stalled and turned to face the messenger. "Now?"

"Of course now! When did you think?" The question was sarcastic.

"Malfoy, putting up with your lack of humour was not a requirement of the deal."

"That wasn't humour, Potter, it was exasperation. Now come on. I would rather not keep him waiting." And with that, they once again made their way to the tactical room, this time seating themselves in the two chairs available at the table.

"Potter, I have called both you and Draco here today so that we can discuss an act of faith. Something that will prove our loyalties to each other," Voldemort sat at the head of the large impeding table that was much too large for the room in which it was placed. Harry was not the only one who favoured rooms built to intimidate.

"We have an arrangement. Is that not enough?" Harry did not want to assist them in binding him to their cause with another rope.

"It was. But now my men fear that you are given too much freedom and that you may wish to turn against us."

"Then your men are stupid. What use is turning against you to me?"

"Many of my men are simple. They do not see things as they are. To them, you are still Dumbledore's man."

Harry rose from his chair, eyes flashing a frightening neon green. He pointed down the table at Voldemort, "Never mention his name in my presence again!"

"Of course; my apologies. I did not mean any disrespect."

Harry lowered himself back into his seat, though his eyes did not turn back to their normal shade.

Voldemort continued, "This arrangement is mutually beneficial. I believe you will see it as agreeable."

"I will be the judge of that. What is it?"

"I wish for you to accept Draco as your consort."

Silence reigned through the room for many minutes. Harry and Draco both were shocked, though only those who knew Draco well could tell. He had his mask in place, but inside he was in turmoil. So this was to be his path; Potter's wife. He had been given as a sign of goodwill. No doubt the Dark Lord had plans for him; he was probably going to spend the rest of his days lying in Potter's bed, whispering plans and lies to him. Manipulating him to do Voldemort's will. He hated it. But he had no choice; he would serve his Lord faithfully. His reverie was broken by Potter.

"My consort? I wasn't aware I was in need of one."

"It would prove your goodwill to me. Offering my General's son to you is a great honour. It will aid appearances greatly."

"It's a control technique. I accept; but do not think that you can use this to heel me."

"I never thought I could. You shall be bound in a fortnight."

"As you wish." Harry rose to leave. Halfway to the door he turned back to the occupants of the table. Draco's face was blank, Lucius' gaze lowered to the table. Only Voldemort met his eye.

"I will be in my rooms. Do not attempt to speak to me for the rest of the day." He paused, and shifted his eyes to Draco. "I will be... busy."

He felt no need to elaborate. Everyone in the room knew that his concubine would be receiving a thorough workout.

"Of course." Voldemort dismissed him.

Later that night Harry lay in bed, eyes drooping from exhaustion. Aden had indeed received a thorough workout, and was currently curled into his side, sleeping deeply. Harry had no idea why this new turn of events was affecting him so. It wasn't like he had to love Malfoy. He was just a symbol. They would be sharing a bed but Harry was not required to sleep in it every night. He would still have his playthings. But something about it was disturbing him and he couldn't sleep.

Untangling himself from Aden, he donned his robe and left the cold chamber.

On the other side of the manor, Draco was also still awake, thinking over the day's events. After the meeting with the Dark Lord, Lucius had taken Draco aside and explained the situation. He would indeed be required to manipulate Harry from their bed. Not only that. He was required to become pregnant as soon as possible. He had no idea what his Lord wanted the baby for. Perhaps another manipulation technique. His father had been cold and forthright. This was Draco's duty and he was to treat it as such.

After that discussion Draco had made his way to his rooms, only to find his mother waiting there for him. "Draco darling, your father has informed me of what is to happen."

"I'm sure he did," Draco headed straight for his personal liquor cabinet. Removing a decanter of Ice Gin, he poured himself a large glass and sat at his desk. He took a large swill, hoping that as the freezing liquid numbed his body, it would numb his mind and emotions too.

"There is much I have to teach you. Normally, consorts are trained their entire lives for the purpose. As this is not the case, we must work through an intensive program so that you can learn how to execute the Dark Lord's plans for you."

Draco poured himself another large glass, having already finished the first. "Mother. This isn't the time. We can discuss it tomorrow." He skulled the second glass as well, savouring the feel of the frigid liquid sliding through his body. Ice Gin was similar to Firewhisky; it maintained a constant temperature, though its purpose was to decrease feeling instead of enhancing it; as was the aim of Fire Whisky.

"Draco, be reasonable. We must start immediately. Put that awful drink away. You have little tolerance for alcohol and we have much work to do."

"Don't tell me what to do. I am no child." Draco's tone was not angry but subdues.

"You're remarkably good at pretending then. Put the liquor away and come here. We shall start with the hard part and move backwards. That way you won't be stressing about sex the entire time."

She didn't notice as Draco's hand tightened around the glass. Ice Gin also moved into the bloodstream at an astonishing rate.

Narcissa continued, "Now as you know you will be the submissive partner of the relationship. Hence the title Consort instead of-"

"Get OUT! Now, mother! Leave and come back tomorrow. I will not discuss this with you now!" Draco interrupted her.

When she failed to move, instead treating him to the patent Malfoy death stare, he decided to augment his statement by throwing his empty crystal glass at her, barely missing.

"DRACO! I will not suffer your immature temper tantrums. Calm down!" Her actions spoke differently however, as she made her way slowly to the door.

"Leave! I will talk to you tomorrow!" When Narcissa still failed to open the door and exit, Draco picked up the decanter and flung it at the wall next to her.

His message got across this time, and she fled, leaving Draco to wallow in his misery without the comfort of gin. And so now, he was still lying on the bed wondering where the moment of temporary insanity had come from. There would be repercussions tomorrow. Deciding that he needed fresh air to clear his head, he departed his rooms.

A/N hope you enjoyed; please let me know what you think!  
-Andy


	3. Chapter 3

JK Rowling owns everything, if she wants the credit for this story she can take it, I'd be honoured. Otherwise I'm not making any money from this. They belong to her, I just like to make them do naughty things.

A/N- Hi I'm not sure whether there's a place out there for this story but I hope there is, there will be sexual situations between our boys and others if this makes you angry or, well, if you don't want to read it, don't. I wont mind. Promise. It also contains strong sexual situations, Mpreg and a very Dark!Harry. If that's your bag, take it!

Also, a big thanks to my wonderful beta cluelesschase,

When Harry finally reached his destination, the inner courtyard of the ancient Manor, he sat on the lone bench pushed up against the wall of the narrow patio. He inhaled the sweet but dangerous scent of the noxious vines which covered the surrounding walls. It was a fitting smell. One which Harry wished could flow through the entire building. It would serve as a good reminder to never let his guard down. No matter how enticing or beautiful something appeared around here, it wasn't to be trusted.

He had known that Voldemort would eventually require a solid commitment or pledge. Those with power and positions of authority always did. Even Dumbledore had required a pact from him. 'A Gryffindor's word was as good as gold' was a favourite claim of the Order's. Harry didn't understand their mentality; Pettigrew had turned traitor. He had been a Gryffindor too.

He remembered being so angry when Dumbledore had asked for the commitment. How could he, the Golden Boy, be doubted? But in the end, it had been another expectation he couldn't bring himself to defy. It had taken Blaise's arrival to make him stand up for himself.

Blaise; there was a can of worms he shouldn't be opening. He didn't often allow himself to think of that time. Those days had been some of the happiest he could remember. Blaise had been his support system, something he no longer required. Harry remembered the day he had arrived, trailing behind Snape and followed by six large trunks, cheeks flushed and full of nervous energy. There had been no uproar from any of the order members. Dumbledore had already screened and approved him, and Dumbledore's word was law.

Blaise had slipped into the fold seamlessly. His charming personality and good looks certainly helped, but it was his strategic thinking that won him trust and affection. Harry had spent many nights with him, going over and over lists of locations and names. It was one of these evenings when Dumbledore had approached him, making some particularly gruelling demand of Harry. After he had left, Harry had tried to once again submerge himself in his work, but Blaise had asked a question that would change Harry's life forever.

"_Why do you do it?" Harry couldn't escape from the penetrating stare that Blaise had pinned him with._

"_Do what?" He tried to appear nonchalant. _

"_Everything he wants? You never question him; not even in your head."_

"_Why should I? He's Dumbledore. He knows what he's doing."_

_Blaise scoffed. "What a load of shit! He's _one man_ Harry, mortal, _fallible_. He asks so much of you. Sometimes I think he asks too much."_

"_No one's asking what you think, are they, Zabini? Mind your own business."_

With that, Harry had stormed off to his room.

By that time, he had his own room; away from Ron's snoring and constant presence. He lay on his bed; on top of his sheets, trying desperately not to think about what Blaise had told him, and to not feel so guilty for getting angry and defensive. It was only ten minutes later that he heard the soft knock at his door. He rose from his bed to open it, finding Blaise waiting with a bottle of Firewhisky. Blaise had pushed his way through and seated himself, legs crossed, at the foot of Harry's bed.

Harry had shrugged and moved to join him as Blaise opened the bottle and took a swig. Once he was seated against the pillows, Blaise handed him the whisky. They had been sitting there for almost half an hour, silent, as Harry had worked up the courage to speak.

"_I can't stand to disappoint them. They brought me here, you know? I owe them so much." _

The Harry sitting in the dark, sweet smelling courtyard laughed at his naivety. How much had changed since that night? He was a completely different person now, and Blaise? Well.

The night had progressed and the bottle began to empty. Blaise worked at needling self worth and ambition into Harry, opening his eyes properly to the level of manipulation that surrounded him. Then to what he could do to change that; how to become his own man. It had been about three o'clock in the morning when the whisky was finished and the topic of conversation altered slightly.

Harry's recollections of the night were somewhat hazy; somehow they had begun to talk about previous relationships; then sexual experiences. Harry remembered how his cheeks had warmed as Blaise had confessed his sexuality, going on to tell Harry just who in Slytherin house was slightly questionable, and how far he had gone with whom. Harry had been shocked by how open Blaise was about it all, even when inebriated.

Eventually Blaise wheedled out of him the dreams he had had of Oliver Wood. The next thing Harry could remember was pinning Blaise to the mattress as he worked on undoing the slightly smaller boy's fly. There was a lot of awkward fumbling and teeth smashing against teeth. But it had been the most turned on Harry had ever been. This was so much better then sex with Ginny, Lavender or that one time with Hermione.

Even now Harry, shuddered at the thought of their drunken tryst. He wondered if Ron knew yet.

When Harry had come, he felt as if an extremely large weight had been lifted from him. Blaise had tried to leave back to his own rooms; claiming people would be suspicious. But Harry hadn't let him. Instead he had dragged Blaise back to bed and curled around him, falling into one of the deepest and most peaceful sleeps he had ever had.

Harry scowled at the memory. Refusing himself any further reminiscing, he sat there staring at the wall in front of him, losing track of time.

That was how Draco found him, his midnight stroll having eventually led him here, the centralmost courtyard of the manor. He leant against the solid stone wall of the entry archway.

"Potter," He said in greeting.

"Malfoy," Was the reply he received. Harry didn't turn around.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Fuck off."

Draco couldn't deal with this now. He still needed to think; an angry Potter was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Not that Potter wasn't angry all the time these days.

"As you wish." Draco turned to leave.

"Why the fuck are you doing it?" Harry cursed himself. He just wanted Malfoy to leave; he didn't want his own stupid curiosity getting in the way.

"Duty." Draco's back was still turned to Harry.

There was a loaded silence before Harry replied, "Someone once told me that I had to be my own man. That I had to stop letting expectations rule my life."

"Yeah? Look where that got you Potter."

"FUCK YOU!" Harry leapt from the bench to grab Draco by the shoulder and spun him around roughly.

"Don't worry, only two weeks to wait. Surely even you can control yourself that long." With that, Draco pulled away from Harry's harsh grip and left.

Harry stood fuming under the arch, forcing himself to remain still as every fibre of his being ached to chase after Malfoy and kick his arrogant face in. Once he had calmed down enough and had full control of his emotions and body, Harry slowly made his way back to his rooms, not hearing the shuffling as he passed a usually vacant room where Draco sat huddled in a corner, wiping savagely at the tears which attempted to cascade down his face.

Draco was disgusted with himself. Sitting in the dark crying like a girl. He refused to acknowledge that in just two weeks he might as well be one. This was his _duty._ If he managed this, he would earn the respect of the Dark Lord's inner circle. He had been trained in spying since he was a child. That was what this was; just a mission. He would be spying on Potter for the Dark Lord. Not only would he be spying, he would also be utilising his diplomatic skills in an alternative fashion. He could deal with that; he was a spy and a diplomat. Both of these jobs were highly credible. Fucking Potter was just a sacrifice he would have to make to get the job done.

Harry and Draco didn't cross paths for the next week. Harry had been out on missions, attempting to catch a glimpse of any Order members he recognised. This had been the pattern for months now, and was why Voldemort felt the need to enhance the level of control he had over Harry. He needed the source of distraction uprooted and had decided Draco was the person to do it.

Draco had been spending his days locked inside with his mother. Moving from the dining room to the sitting room, learning everything that would be required of him as Harry's consort. His mother had not spoken of his tantrum once, and Draco was extremely thankful for it. He had accepted his fate and was putting that one drunken night behind him. He concentrated on learning how to set tables and the social niceties to which he was expected to conform. His mother was also yet to mention the bedroom, though he knew it would be brought up shortly. It wasn't something he could escape from.

And so when Draco was lead by his mother into a large guest bedroom, he was prepared.

"Now the bedchamber. This is the room you will be doing your most important work in. So it is important you learn to manipulate him in these surroundings. As I have said before, you will be the submissive partner. Do not try to control anything until you are comfortable with each other. Any sign of dominance too early could lead to problems that will span the length of your marriage. You need him to be comfortable with you, to trust you so that you can bend his ear."

As Narcissa spoke, she made her way toward a mirrored wall. She slid apart two large panels, exposing a large built in wardrobe. "It will also be your responsibility to make sure that the house elves are up-to-date with his attire. Mostly it will be you who decides his clothing choices." She wandered around the room explaining intricate details of managing one's husband, letting Draco in on secrets of manipulation and the like.

An hour passed, and she still hadn't mentioned sex. Draco was getting more and more agitated by the minute. It took a lot of effort to keep the humiliation at bay. Finally Narcissa moved to sit on the bed.

"Now Draco. I'm not sure how extensive your knowledge of coital relations is. Especially between two men. So I will try to cover everything." She was so direct and business like that Draco's embarrassment remained manageable.

"Now, to start with foreplay. It is your responsibility to stimulate your husband. There are many ways to ensure he achieves an erection. To save us both the embarrassment of going into detail, I want you to take this." She reached into her robes and removed a slim leather bound book.

"My mother gave this to me when I turned sixteen, to ensure that I would make the best possible wife. Now I am giving it to you. It will sense your sex and rearrange itself accordingly. It tells you what, where and how to touch. What to put where, how to put it there, etcetera. I have also taken the liberty of acquiring some _tools _to help you become accustomed. You can use them or not, though I strongly suggest you do. It will make things simpler and less _painful_. However, you are not to anally penetrate yourself with anything large. You must keep that orifice mostly virginal. He will be able to tell if you don't." Narcissa was so cold about it, continuing on while Draco sat frozen in an attempt to retain some dignity.

She rose and walked to the door. "I have secured this room for your use until your wedding. Take this opportunity to practice. Everything you will need is in the bedside table. We will wait to discuss pregnancy until terms of union are established. That meeting is tomorrow, so don't stay up too late. I shall have the house elves bring you supper. We cannot chance a run in with Potter as you have now entered the proprietary week. You should be familiar enough with the custom to know that any contact between you and your future spouse must be chaperoned. Goodnight."

Draco remained still for long minutes after hearing his mother's footsteps taper off. Eventually forcing himself to move toward the nightstand, he opened the drawer wide to find a selection of dildos, magical vibrators, lubricants and other things he couldn't name. After exploring the erotic aides, he lay back among the pillows and opened his mother's book, calmly waiting as words and pictures rearranged themselves for him. Once the ink stilled, he settled in and began to read.

A/N This isn't one of my favourite chapters but it was needed to further the plot. The wedding will be next chapter though I haven't decided whether the wedding night will be included. Please tell me what you think.


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